Episode 13 - Advance to the Rear [TE]

The last RPG was "Zeta Gundam: Tales from the Frontlines - The AEUG" which ran from 2006-14.
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Episode 13 - Advance to the Rear [TE]

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- Alexandria-class Kirov -
- Combat Bridge -


"Sir, we are no longer in weapons range of AEUG forces. At the moment, it seems they aren't pursuing."

"This operation is over, then," decided Cmdr. Andrewson Trent, "Make sure all vessels and teams compose full reports. Suit teams can return to their ships as needed. Tell the leaders of the Kirov teams I need to see them in the briefing room. And we'll move back to the main bridge when reasonable."

With that, Trent stepped out of the combat bridge, leaving Commodore Wolf Ritter in charge. Trent removed the bulky normal suit; he was more than glad to be back in the more natural feel and movement of the standard uniform. That said, he had some questions for the team leaders, especially Aleksandr Stukov and Gilliarme Lasalle, of his flagship's mobile suit complement.

- Mobile Suit Bay -

Ens. Mercedes Ritter noted, with no small level of disdain, that she was the first one to return to the bowels of the Kirov. True, it was due solely to her proximity, but that hardly served to put her mind at east. Ltjg. Leandro Fulgencio Alvarez's pockmarked Hizack Custom landed next, but by that point Mercedes was in the changing rooms, getting back into her standard uniform.

* * *

OOC: For this Herakles segment, assume it starts before you PCs started filing into the bridge, k?

- Salamis Kai-class Herakles -
- Combat Bridge -


Commander Trent had given the all-clear; the fight was over. That, at least, was the good news.

The bad news was that Lieutenant Commander Isaac Berg, jr., was convinced both Lt. Jonas Brown and Ltjg. Ian McMullen - the two Herakles Team pilots with prior combat experience - had both been killed, leaving just the two green pilots. What a waste. What a goddamn waste.

One of the said green pilots, Ens. Alex Lepak, showed up on the sober-atmosphered combat bridge (that's right, some rebel had knocked out the main bridge, meaning Berg and his crew would have to operate out of the damn combat bridge until the taskforce could get back to Gryps for some proper repairs) and milled about. For now, Berg let him. He'd chew out both rookies at once.

Two highly-experiences pilots, their mobile suits, and the main bridge all lost on the Herakles's first sortie - in a diversionary raid, no less. It was a sad state of affairs, and would certainly prove a source of shame for Berg for far too long.

Berg gave perfunctory commands on autopilot to the background sound of his mental swearing stream. At some point, really not long after Ens. Lepak had appeared, a young voice came up from the bridge's entrance: "Ensign Kyle Roberts here to report for duty."

Berg pulled off his own service cap and slowly turned to the fresh officer. He saw that Ens. Constantine Pendragon, the other surviving pilot, was there behind Ens. Roberts, but had yet to announce himself.

Kyle continued: "I am fresh from the academy with experience in mechanized combat as well as bridge work. I hope that I can be of use while I stay on this ship, which is very nice by the way. It is my pleasure to be here and I would like my list of responsibilities so I can begin as soon as possible."

Up until this point, Berg had been struggling to place the name and face to a duty, but now remembered who this was. That fresh young kid sent to learn under a captain's wing. No doubt they were grooming to kid for some kind of command role. He had all the quirks of a green little shavetail bastard. Berg had no problem with that; the kid would be easier to predict on account of it. Even more important is that the kid would be eager to prove himself, knowing he was on the fast track for rapid promotion.

"Very well, Ens. Roberts. I want you to stay around and pay attention. I have a matter to which to attend, then we can get to talking. Ensigns Lepak and Pendragon, at attention. I have words for you two."

* * *

- Beta Team -

Ltcmdr. Wolf Ritter XXV, flanked by his wingmen, coasted along near the Kirov. He saw the Marasai with the hammer-and-sickle insignia - Stukov's - trailing behind three other Marasais - presumable Delta Team.

Apparently, that Cossack had come through alive yet again, despite the absolute lunacy in his approach to warfare.

Speaking of a pilot who miraculously survived in spite of his approach to combat, the tiger-stripe Hizack and its pilots were still around and in one piece.

Wolf drifted his Marasai over to that of Lt. Ryo Naka and initiated skintalk. "You go ahead into the Kirov first, Lieutenant. Get some rest."

At the back of his mind, this "Ashlyn" character burned. His father would have some explaining to do.

- Delta Team -

Ens. Samantha Fulton was quick to accept landing first, getting herself ahead of Ltjg. Shin Yamamoto to take Delta Team's elevator down to the suit bay.

She wasn't sure which of the two men was more pathetic. Was Shin too much an idiot to know that withdrawing from a fight was a little easier when you didn't rush forward to engage every enemy that put up even the slightest attempt at pursuit? Or was Lt. Gilliarme Lasalle less competent a commander than his reputation made him seem; incapable of controlling his subordinates in the thick of things? Samantha was willing to bet on both, though perhaps one by proxy.

- Hades Team -

M-Hover had been impatiently tapping his finger against his Hizack's controls for some time when the all-clear came through. With little energy, he hit his comm button.

"Miller, Silverwind: you two can go ahead and get inside the ship ahead of me."

* * *

- Alexandria-class Kirov -
- Andrewson Trent's Office -


Before he got to the briefing rooms to await his team leaders, Trent had to take care of one last matter. His office gave him the equipment necessary.

Sitting at his desk, Trent pulled his microphone up, then set his broadcast so the ships and mobile suits of Taskforce Echo would all hear. With Minovsky density dropping, there was a high likelihood it would get through. He called for attention over the line a few times, then started.

"Men and women of the Titans Autonomous Raider Taskforce Echo, this is your commander speaking. Some may be wondering if our sudden withdrawal from the fight is a sign of success. I'm glad to report that that is in fact the case; I gave the order to fall back when we received word that Daningan's main force had indeed been successful in securing the main port of Von Braun City. Our diversionary raid was a complete success, and so was the main operation. We have yet to see what effect the successful conclusion of Operation Apollo will have in our overall mission to defeat the numerous enemies of the Earth Federation, but no doubt it will be significant. In any case, we've done out part, and we've done it well. Thank you all."

Trent closed the line, then walked out the door to make his way to the briefing room. Time to add some footnotes to that congratulatory note.
Last edited by Cardi Doorl on Wed Jun 13, 2007 10:26 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Kyle was delighted mentally that the Captain hadn't at least chewed him out too but from the looks it seemed he was upset with the loss of those pilots and their suits. That was depressing since it would mean the ship was slightly underarmed if something happened to them now. That would be horrible but in the back of his mind he knew crisis was the most sure fire way to bring out someone's true potential. Though he would never say that of course... It would be awful if they knew he had thoughts like that.

The Captain acknowledged his existence and he smiled slightly. It felt good to even get those few of words to reach his ears. Quickly he saluted the Captain and took the nearest seat. He was familar with most of the positions on the bridge except handling the sensory equipment. His patience just weren't long enough to keep eyes trained on the equipment. But he found a seat and slightly relaxed feeling that even though this was the Combat bridge it was better than nothing. "Yes Sir I shall. Thank you for letting me stay on." He said slightly happy and ready for his first order. Maybe if they got a new mobile suit later on he could sortie when needed.
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Ensign Pendragon steps fully through the door, letting it close with the same whooshing sound as the time it opened. Once he is in, his eyes snap forward and his body moves seamlessly into a perfect attention. Shoulders squared, thumbs instinctively on the seam of his pilot suit’s legs, feet angled 45 degrees with the heels slightly touching. The young Constantine has heard that tone of voice before, though usually it wasn’t direct towards him.

Yes, the junior pilots onboard the Herakles where in deep S***. That bastard Brown, just by the act of dying, has managed to bring more shame upon him than any other. Fighting under a coward may be a disgrace, but at least it is a redeemable one. Because of this… man’s incompetence, the stigma of losing his team commanders, both of them, in a single battle, his first none-the-less.

At attention, the only moments he makes are those which allow him to breath. Other than that, he might as well be a statue.



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One could otherwise only wonder whether or not Gilliarme shared similar sentiments with Samantha regarding his wingmen --- himself included.

The initial purpose of Gilliarme Lasalle making Delta Team a generally loose-protocol team was threefold, the first being that most of the Titans were otherwise the opposite --- strict on regulations, hung up on rank, stick-in-the-muds --- and that Gilliarme had always favored a reasonable change of flavor in the Titans. In fact, if the Titans didn't do so at this rate, loosen up, and focus on salvaging their human relations rather than concentrating on suppressing Spacenoids, they'd bury themselves in a grave pretty quickly. Gilliarme frowned at that; it was true that the AEUG were winning the popularity fight, and it was killing the Titans. It would be a matter of time before even the Earth Federation turned against them if change didn't come.

The second purpose in this vein was to, when performed properly, give his wingmen a more relaxed attitude towards being in the Titans; They have enough to worry about without having to worry about sucking up to their Team Leader or how to deal with an incompetent one without jeopardizing their lives --- if they had any complaints, they could go ahead and voice it out to him without worrying about political backing and the like. Gilliarme, after all, has had his share of that, and it wasn't pretty --- And likewise, it was Gilliarme's hopes that it would inspire him to continue improving himself, as well.

The third and main purpose, however, was for Gilliarme to be able to see what kind of style his wingmen preferred following, and during the brief fight with the Hamburg he's seen quite a bit. All three members of Delta Team had their flaws --- even Gilliarme himself was to blame. Samantha's flaw was a deep-rooted, subtle belief that all officers ranked above her are incompetent, snivelling idiots, and wouldn't take to trusting her own team readily --- hence her finding herself fighting Clute alone, and at the back, for the majority of the battle, staying away from him and Shin while remaining at a safe distance away from the Kirov. Shin was a wildcard; he was skilled enough to handle himself against even many opponents (even more skilled than Gilliarme himself, in fact), but had a tendency to let himself get ensnared by the heat of battle and ignoring crucial things behind him, an example being how he turned around and stood off against Celeste three times until finally ordered by the Kirov to fall back.

As for Gilliarme himself, he sighed; Samantha was probably right --- He admitted that he was good at being a team member, and maybe a tactician, but absolutely not at being a leader. He was not assertive enough to bridle his wingmen, had little mind for internal politics (which in the Titans was probably critical), and probably most of all, he would not and could not bring himself to make any decisions that would be to the detriment of those under his command, even if the rest of the task force's lives depended on it. Gilliarme silently wondered if Samantha and Shin would make those decisions more readily than he would.

And with Daningan's pull on Echo, Gilliarme fully expected to be punished, likely demoted, for the failed attack on the Hamburg and putting Samantha and Shin in danger --- in fact, he would be lucky if he wasn't kicked out of the task force altogether. Not that he didn't deserve it. Perhaps one of his wingmen could lead Delta Team better than he would, and the good side was that he could go back to fully concentrating on being a pilot and simple soldier if that was the case. Gilliarme was beginning to tire of dealing with intrigue.

Seeing Samantha butt into the queue while Gilliarme's legless Marasai, lost to Celeste and Jacob's attacks against him, while he waited near the Kirov's port side, Gilliarme found himself listening to Trent's speech and widened his eyes in surprise --- Daningan actually managed to succeed for once without inflicting massive civilian casualties in an overzealous rage? He probably had help; Daningan alone didn't have the caliber to achieve that kind of success.

Eventually, it was his turn, and Gilliarme gently set his Marasai into the hanger bay as he eyed Samantha exiting her Mobile Suit with a disdainful look at him and Shin. At that, he shook his head, and strapped himself out of the Marasai's cockpit, floating onto the floor and then towards the Briefing Room with one gentle push. He'd imagine Trent would be wanting to talk to him...
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Alex turns a soon as "At Attention" was said. Shoulders squared and arms at his side, feet together. The tone of the Officers voice is familiar and yet always frightening to hear.

The past battle flashes through Alex mind, this talk with the Captain can't be good. His face is completely serious and his eyes low.
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"Um, Roger sir!"

Miller followed Silverwind into the hanger. When he got out he playfully left his cockpit, but jumped out too far and couldn't control is movements. He slowly but surely slammed into a steel beam, and rebounded back to the floor.

"oh my head, is the birdies here to help me?"
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((OOC:Wait, are we going a Briefing Room, or Trent's office?))

-Gamma Team-

When Nick landed into the Kirov, his tattered mind tried to go over his own team's performance and what the hell happened. Actually, it would be more acurate to say he was using one to distract the other.

The...the rookie did adequete enough, as did Dante, which is frankly surprising. Nothing I have to dress them down for...in fact they...

“Nick, Celeine is with us, and she’s worried about you."

Liar; like she'd be caught dead in space.

"I have no reason to continue fighting you, Nick. There are still people who care about your physical and mental well-being.”

HOW!?! How did he know that name?! Is she really on that...NO! She'd never. True, she's hot-tempered and prone to getting herself in stupid situations, but she'd never....

Actually, now that he thought about it, there was a SLIGHT possibility she would, but either way...

How could he identify me? The only person who I know about is...

Celeste. That was the same squad we were originally pursuing. Which means Celeste is with that fleet.

Edward....

Ritter's death...

Perhaps all my plotting wasn't for naught, after all.


When Nick stepped out of his mobile suit, people would be shocked and disturbed by his smile; half-cruel, half-naively hopeful. It didn't fall even when he recieved the order to report to Trent's office.

It did, however, falter when he saw Gilliarme.

"What's the matter, rearliner? Frontline-reality not to your liking?"

That was probably about as close to a, 'are you okay' that Gilliarme was ever going to get.
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It was still a pretty nasty way to inquire about one's well-being, but nonetheless, Gilliarme saw the hardened expression for what it was and decided to respond accordingly.

"No, I'm fine," Gilliarme simply answered. "Merely evaluating how we did out there as a whole. We all have our flaws, of course --- always trying to find ways to do better next time so we can all survive this. What about you, Lieutenant Te'litha? How are you faring?" Then, Gilliarme paused to let Nick respond for awhile, and continued forward towards the briefing room and what Trent would want to talk to him about.
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- Salamis Kai-class Hades-
- Hanger -



Jason is standing at the railing overlooking the techs trying to repair his Hizack. The wait is eating at him. With one hand clenched on the rail and the other grasping a cold unopened soda bottle, his concentration brakes when the squad returns. He is a witness to Miller's graceful performance which gives him a chuckle. Jason knew the next move was about to leave him vulnerable. He even considered using the term friend which was big for him since he's never had one.

Jason kicks off toward Miller. "Hey Miller." Anticipating Patrick's next move Jason quips "Put your arm down. You don't have to salute me. We're the same rank, ya knuckle head. But thanks for the gesture though."

Jason tosses the cold bottle towards Miller. "Here for your head .. and thanks. I thought I wasn't coming back. I'd thank the other guy but I forgot his name already." With a smirk Jason leaves. "Get changed. I'm sure the Lt. will have some sort of debriefing. It's not gonna be pretty."
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"Uhh ohh uuhh" Miller was confused that somehow the XO knew his next move. Miller was mid salute when Jason told him to stand down. he stood gazed as he somehow caught the bottle and put it to his head as if it was a reflex he's always had.

"Uh...but you're the XO..err..right sir, I'll get into uniform." Patrick slightly tilting downwards trying to get to the door, but was failing miserably form the floatingness of space.
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OOC: Oops, sorry. I was a little inconsistent in where the team leaders were to meet, wasn't I? :( Well, we'll go with briefing room, even though I said office first.

IC:

- Beta Team -

As the Kirov's mobile suits filed into their mothership, Wolf drifted up to the cruiser's main bridge. He could see that the bridge crew had just finished transferring back to the main bridge from the combat bridge. Trent wasn't presently, apparently. The Commodore was in command. Interestingly, the information officer Tariq Sayed was present.

Without ado, Wolf rested his custom Marasai's left hand on the armor plating just next to the main bridge's viewports. Looming large in their field of vision, he now spoke directly to the bridge.

"Sir," he addressed his father as any superior when on duty.

"Go on, Lieutenant Commander," replied the Commodore, returning the formality.

Wolf didn't waste words: "I spoke by chance to one of the AEUG pilots during the sortie, sir. He identified himself as 'Ashlyn' and knew who I was by sight. He mentioned you specifically."

The Commodore nodded knowingly. "Thank you, Commander. Return to the suit bay."

* * *

- Alexandria-class Kirov -
- Main Bridge -


As the custom Marasai disengaged, the Commodore turned to Tariq. "It seems we have crossed paths with the same squadron from before, if our old friend Ashlyn is present."

Tariq never seemed to move a muscle, though he did murmur: "In that case, we have an opportunity to tie up some unfortunate loose ends."

"This is no time to get ahead of ourselves," declared the Commodore, "For now, events will take their natural course."

* * *

- Salamis Kai-class Herakles -
- Combat Bridge -


The two pilots at attention in front of him, Berg cleared his throat and paced around the bridge (an action, he noted with disappointment, made less impressive by the fact they were in the combat bridge rather than the more spacious main bridge).

"Let's not pretend otherwise, ensigns; our showing out there was nothing short of disastrous and humiliating. Brown and McMullen are missing, most likely both dead. What happened out there?"

Berg turned pointedly toward Ens. Pendragon, making it clear he expected an account from him first. The reason was simple; he didn't want the two rookies to start talking over each other in case both wanted to take a stab at explaining himself.

* * *

- Salamis Kai-class Hades -
- Mobile Suit Bay -


Picard emerged from his Hizack. Directly across his Hizack was Varis'. He had no idea where the bland Ensign was at the moment and frankly didn't much care.

He did see Jason and Patrick at the other end of the bay, though. M-Hover kicked off his Hizack toward them.

"I'll see you two in the briefing room," he muttered brusquely before changing course to the changing rooms.
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Kyle felt like the odd man out as he sat and listened to the Captain sound awful irritated. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to be here but then again he was told to stay around and learn but what was he suppose to learn? To chew out crew members when they messed up? He could easily learn that but he didn't know had actually happened out there so he could get some prespective. Plus he was sort of disposed of when the battle or whatever had started... Not sure where he had been but he hadn't been there enough to know what was going on. That entire event was a blank to him but he would learn really quick just what had happened as he listened in.

Sitting there quiet Kyle listened in on the conversation between the pilots and the Captain with interest since this was something a Captain did. Hopefully he could learn a lot from this man and then prove himself to be able and reliable.
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- Salamis Kai-class Hades-
- Hanger -


While Jason was walking away he heard M-hover. "I'll see you two in the briefing room," Jason continued to walk away, unimpressed by his new Lt. who to him had fallen asleep at the wheel letting 2 strange suits approach so close to the Hades.

At least the Federation officers pretended to be aware. And what's with two AEUG suits going through the front lines untouched and a Marasai attacking ME! If that's the sign of things to come then this is gonna be a long hard road. Oh well, better get ready for the sh** storm

Being the first to have arrived on the Hades, Jason already in uniform angrily makes his way to the briefing room.
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“My apologies, Captain. I do not know what happened to Lt Jr Grade McMullen. When we were deployed out towards the frontlines, Lt. Brown has us separate into two elements, me with him, and Ensign Lepak with Lt. McMullen. I believe he had them go around wide, Ensign Lepak would have better information than me.”

Ensign Pendragon is careful not to appear to be trying to lay the blame on Lepak, merely giving a report and stating that he doesn’t know what happened to the XO.

“On our way to the front, Lt. Brown’s suit stalled and he fell behind.”

Pendragon is also careful not to mention Brown’s cowardice, so as not to look like he is attempting to lay the blame elsewhere.

“I wasn’t up front for long, as a pair of enemy suits penetrated our lines and cut me off from Lt. Brown and opened fire. A trio of enemy suits moved in to attack from the side, so I went and engaged the pair that attacked first to try and open up a window for Lt. Brown to escape so we could link up.”

He pauses for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts.

“It was during that engagement that I lost track of the Lieutenant. It wasn’t long before Ensign Lepak came to my assistance… without Lt. McMullen…”

At this point, his voice starts to become shaky and his left fist starts to tremble slightly as he remembers the battle. He takes in a deep breath before continuing.

“When I noticed that I could no longer find Lt. Brown, I thought he had managed to escape. Ensign Lepak was starting to take damage, and I was running low on ammunition for the 120, so I told Ensign Lepak to head towards a nearby team of Hizacks, since we where having a difficult time occupying the enemy. If they chose to pursue us, we could have swamped them with superior numbers. As we were retreating, a Marasai with a hammer and sickle on it’s shoulder rushed in towards the trio of enemies, seemingly oblivious to the enemy duo me and Ensign Lepak were just engaging. I couldn’t let him be shot in the back, but Ensign Lepak’s suit was in such bad condition that he couldn’t fight, so I told him to go ahead and return to ship. I then reengaged the enemy and managed to disarm one, forcing him into close ranged combat. His wingman followed his lead and ditched his rifle for his saber. I… I held them off, I don’t know how, and I don’t believe I did any damage to them, but I head them off long enough for the Marasai to complete wipe out the 3 enemy suits, at which point I disengaged the pair yet again and took off for the Herakles. When I returned, I spotted a another pair of Nemos attacking the ship and they turned on me. During the first attack, I wasn’t fast enough to dodge.”

By this time, his eyes are closed tight, as if to try and block out the fear that is starting to take a hold and both hands are now shaking uncontrollably.

“My suit took damage, taking out one of my leg thrusters… When they started closing in, I started heading towards the Kirov, in hopes that the teams on guard their would be able to handle them. My gun was just about out of ammo. My suit was off balance. I was out numbered by superior suits… and I ran…”

Tears begin to form as the shame of turning his back to the enemy, not once, but thrice in the same battle. He called Lt. Brown a coward, but at least Brown died like a soldier, out on the battlefield. Ensign Constantine Pendragon turned his back on the enemy and ran. And for that, he is still breathing to live with the shame.

“Th-the enemy closed in, to finishes me off, for sure… and then they just broke off… just like that… Right afterwards, I limped my Hizack back to ship.”

Pendragon paused for a moment, mustering his strength before continuing.

“I am truly sorry, Sir. If I am to be Court Marshaled, I-I understand, Sir…”

That last bit is spoken with a shaky voice, but also one of acceptance.



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"No, I'm fine," Gilliarme simply answered. "Merely evaluating how we did out there as a whole. We all have our flaws, of course --- always trying to find ways to do better next time so we can all survive this. What about you, Lieutenant Te'litha? How are you faring?"

Nick sighed. "What's more bitter, Rearliner; reality, or hope? I had a forceful taste of both out there, and I honestly don't know the answer."

Nick didn't speak anymore then that, but silently marched with Gilliarme to the briefing room, the wheels in his head turning to try and get Taskforce Echo to pursue.
I mean when you spend precious seconds to give an "All Your Nukes Are Belong To Us" speech before you even start the Gundam up, you know you're too overzealous for your own good.~wza
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Patrick, with the help of a few crew members, was able to actually get inside the changing room. When he got in there, his CO was no where to be found. He either got changed and left already, or was hiding out somewhere in there. Patrick found his locker, and looked at his arm. He had the combination written on his left arm. after the 15th try, he was finally able to get the damn thing open.

After 25 minutes of getting there, opening the locker, and actually changing, Patrick was in uniform again. He closed his locker and made his way out of the door. with some help of a different bunch of crewmen, he finally made it to the briefing room.
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- Salamis Kai-class Herakles -
- Combat Bridge -


Berg betrayed no sign of his thoughts as Pendragon recounted the events of the fight.

"I see," he said flatly as the Ensign finished. For now he gave no further regard to Constantine and turned to Alex. "Ensign Lepak, give me your account of what happened out there."

* * *

- Salamis Kai-class Hades -
- Briefing Room -


Jason was the first to show up, followed by the annoyingly punctual Varis. Patrick was tardy, but Picard had more important things to worry about.

"Listen up, Hades Team," he said without preamble, "That wasn't too bad for our first sortie, I guess. We all came back alive. That said, the sortie brought to my attention a few problems." He was seated at the head of the briefing room. There was a table to his side, so that he had his elbow rested on it and his hand up to support his head at the side. He let his gaze drift from pilot to pilot, for all the world as though this were a casual affair. When he finished this opening announcement, he had his eyes fall on Bernard.

"Thing is," he continued, "There's some confusion over who really runs this outfit. I'd hate for there to be confusion."
Last edited by Cardi Doorl on Fri Jun 22, 2007 5:24 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Cardi Doorl
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OOC: Sorry everyone. No excuse for my criminal tardiness :(

IC:
- Alexandria-class Kirov -
- Mobile Suit Bay -


As she zipped up her boot, Samantha glanced to the doorway from the her changing room to the mobile suit bay. Wasn't someone there a moment ago... ?

She remained frozen like that - bent over with her right boot's zipper halfway up, head turned slightly with her eyes fixed intently on the doorway, her hair draped to the left due to the way her torso was twisted - for a handful more seconds before resuming the mundane action for all the world like there'd been no pause.

She stood and, after tapping the heel of her right boot thrice against the floor, she walked right back into the suit bay.

-

"Where's Wolf?"

The question was delivered flatly, the way someone would ask for the whereabouts to a barely-known acquaintance or a bland coworker. Everyone knew Alexandra's feelings for Wolf were hardly in that vein, though.

"What happened out there this time, Alexi?" responded Mercedes in lieu of an answer. She was already in her regular uniform, eating a snack she'd taken from a break room vending machine. Alexandra was still in her pilot suit.

"A blue Rick Dias," was Alexandra's reply, "I need to talk to Wolf, maybe Nick, about it. Something happened with those two and a blue Rick Dias in that sortie, and I need to know what. The way Wolf reacted to it..."

Mercedes chewed on a small bit of the half sandwich (better than one would expect from a warship break room, but that's not saying much), knowing Alexandra had only told her so much because she was Mercedes. This was the kind of issue Alexandra would normally keep to herself until she'd spoken with those she was seeking.

"Team leaders were summoned to a meeting with the Commander."

Alexandra's mouth twisted in a peculiar way of hers. She then kicked off a nearby surface to a changing room, passing by that blue-haired woman from Delta Team along the way. Mercedes finished her snack with no haste, then followed Alexandra.

-

Leandro never did change out of his pilot suit. He, helmet off and left behind in the cockpit, hovered over his battered Hizack. He worked silently alongside the mechanics and technicians as they worked the mobile suit. He got to know every inch, every curve, every minute mechanism of the war machine he piloted. For the first time, he felt he could see the true face of what he controlled in those mad battlefields. He never spoke, but worked with the repair teams obediently, apparently eager to know what made his Hizack tick.

The repair teams would note how he worked with a mad fervor; a zealotry, even. His silence didn't hinder the process, as he seemed to communicate just fine through his eyes. None of the mechanics remembered seeing Leandro's eyes resolved into such hard coldness or cold hardness ever. For this moment, at least, Leandro was empty of himself, having poured it all into his war machine. The mechanics would admit only to each other that the once-friendly support pilot from Alpha Team had rather abruptly developed a palpable aura.

- Briefing Room -

Trent wasn't remotely surprised to see Stukov march in first, even though the Mad Russian had been among the last pilots to get back aboard the Kirov. After his salute, the Russian took a seat. He hunkered over the desk in that way of his: at once casual and unassuming - perhaps even detached - yet with an undeniable undercurrent of frozen energy ready to bust forward, like he could launch himself from his seated position to pin you and, in the same fluid motion, slice your throat without batting an eye or letting a sound escape his lips or yours.

Not that Trent was remotely intimidated by the man. The life he'd led ensured he'd been around the kind more often than anybody could ever stand. He had words for Stukov's conduct in the recently-finished fight. Oh yes, he had words.

- Main Bridge -

"For now, set course back to Gryps," If the Commander feels he'd prefer a different course of action, he's free to order it so upon his return.

"Commodore, sir, what about the 9th Expedition?" asked Fyodor Pavlichenko, "They're offering to remain with us until and unless they receive orders otherwise from elsewhere."

"They may tag along if they wish," nodded the Commodore, "Have them take position within our formation." The good Commander Trent can reverse those commands all he wishes, now can't he? Not that he would.
Last edited by Cardi Doorl on Fri Jun 22, 2007 3:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Shortly after Stukov's entrance, Gilliarme himself made his own, giving a calm, reverent salute to Trent as the first thing he did in the room. In comparison to Stukov's maddening, intense aura of what --- if Trent had described what he felt from Stukov just then to Gilliarme, word-for-word --- Gilliarme would pretty much summarize as paranoia (the same deadly paranoia that had enveloped the early, murderous days of the former Soviet Union before the Universal Century, no less), the Frenchman not only lacked that malicious intent, but was also the picture of regal calmness; despite his thoughts earlier, Gilliarme was verily tranquil as he presented himself into the briefing room, facial expression unmoving with a small smile, arms placed casually behind his back as if nothing bad was going to happen --- that nothing, not even Stukov for all his paranoid Soviet air, could hurt him or anyone around him.

Indeed, one choice thing Gilliarme would say to Stukov, if his place permitted it, was that the deadly paranoia he was surrounding himself with here was being quite misplaced. It was not going to help Stukov at all in the briefing room.

Then taking a seat after Trent saluted back, Gilliarme narrowed his eyes slightly and began to wait, straightening himself readily in that impeccable, prepared manner. He knew Trent would have a few choice words of his own for Gilliarme's (failed) blitz against the Hamburg, and there was nothing else to do, nor should he do, but face those words. Any minute now, Trent was going to begin.
Don't throw the baton, you jacka**!!!
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